


The Wool Jumper

by Opalyns



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-26 23:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21382006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalyns/pseuds/Opalyns
Summary: For the first time in her life, Olive felt cold. The aftermath of the Blackpool Tower events. Zero plot fluff. ENOLIVE. MOVIEVERSE.
Relationships: Emma Bloom/Jacob Portman, Olive Elephanta/Enoch O'Connor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	1. Miss Avocet's Loop

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 1: Miss Avocet’s Loop

Enoch woke up to a pounding headache. The red carpet of the circus ring was hard and scratchy under his back and he was feeling like he had been thrown around by a Hollow. Oh wait. That had happened earlier, when they were still on Cairnholm island. In the brief second of quiet, his brain was starting to register the various injuries he had ignored until now, hidden under his thick wool jumper. The Hollow had squeezed him tight in his tentacles and he had felt his ribs crack under the pressure. Enoch however had not had time to react to that particular bother as he had then been thrown into walls, windows and mirrors, adding bruises and cuts.

As Enoch's brain was quickly running through the rest of the adventure that had led him to be knocked unconscious on the floor of Blackpool Tower and taking stock of the probable concussion that resulted from it, the deafening silence of the theatre suddenly dawned on him. His eyes strained to open against the bright stage lights that surrounded the space. Sitting up with a frown, he scanned the area and arrested his gaze on Olive, kneeling on the floor with a Wight digging his fingers into her frail shoulders, keeping her still. He could see the girl's skin take a sick blue tinge and little crystals forming on her smooth face. Her fiery red hair looked dull.

Scrambling to his feet, Enoch ran to the elephant puppet that was lying in a corner and pulled a spare heart from his pocket. The last one he had, which he had carried in case. He knew animating the elephant would take an enormous effort and that the heart was too small for it. The marionette was not one of his little homunculi, which he had created and knew exactly how to direct. It was not a dead body, which he had successfully raised many a time before. This was a humongous monster made of metal.

There was no choice and no time to think. Each Peculiar used what they knew and this was what Enoch knew. It just had to work. The elephant blinked and stood up shakily, before raising its front paws above the Wight's head and projecting a shadow that distracted Olive's tormentor. The metallic legs fell against the Wight, pushing him away from Olive and crushing him dead into the floor. Olive's body crumpled and the dull headache behind Enoch's eyes exploded.

He ran towards Olive and fell to his knees in front of the girl, trying to shake her awake.

"Olive, Olive!"

Her skin felt icier than any corpse he had ever touched in his parents' funeral parlour. Panic was slowly seeping away from him, leaving only a black hole that was engulfing him.

"I'm so sorry Olive. All these years I never appreciated you. I didn't see how lucky I was. I got so used to having you there, I never realised..."

The dark-haired boy trailed off as the words got stuck in his throat, choked by the overwhelming realisation that he had failed and lost everything. He had been too slow. It was too late for words so he leaned forward and softly placed his warm lips on her frosted ones. He was aware that Bronwyn had broken free from the icy pool and that little Claire and the twins had padded down silently from the upper circle but it did not matter in that moment. Olive was gone.

***

"You never realised what?"

Olive's vocal chords felt raw and gritty in her throat and her lungs struggled to expand and contract under the thin layer of melting ice. She was desperate for sensations to return to her limbs, for the horrid compression to leave her chest. She had heard some of Enoch's speech and clung to his words, trying to fight her way back to consciousness, desperate to open her frosted eyelids. 

Prying her eyes open against the warm stage lights, she could feel the water running on her skin. The crystals were disappearing and she could see Enoch's slightly blurry and disbelieving face above her. A small smile broke on his features and she felt her flames soar. The grumpy boy rarely smiled and even less so at people. She had previously caught his features light up slightly for little Claire or Miss Peregrine but this one was for her and seeing it relit the fire within her, melting the rest of the ice as her skin returned slowly to its porcelain colour.

Bronwyn ran towards her and Enoch to help her up and gave her a fierce hug, soon followed by the twins and Claire. Olive was always their favourite when it came to hugs. She was warm and soft and her quiet glow always comforting. Enoch shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched the children embrace the pyromancer and he wished to be them and to hold her. He was not sure what Olive had heard or felt and while he recognised he would eventually have to face that moment again, he was also keenly aware that Jake and Emma were still on Barron's trail and they were on a tight timeline. They all had to get back to the ghost train before Miss Avocet's loop closed.

"Olive, take the others back to the pier, I will find Jake and Emma. We need to leave."

Olive's head snapped up to meet the necromancer's dark eyes. She could still see the remnants of emotions in them even as he was locking them down again. The moment, their moment, was gone. They still did not have their Ymbryne back, Barron was still out there, Jake and Emma were missing in the bowels of the Tower and time was running out. The red-haired girl nodded firmly, against her heart's wishes. She did not want to leave Enoch behind, however much she knew that her duty was to get the younger ones back to 1943. What if he did not make it back in time? She shivered at the thought and pushed it to the back of her mind before grabbing the twins’ hands. Fiona, Hugh, Millard and Horace ushered Bronwyn and Claire towards the exit and Enoch ran to the cellar. Olive saw his silhouette disappear down the stairs and it felt like the ice was back in her chest, trying to crush her heart.

***

Jake stood at the entrance of the loop, and gave out hugs and pats, looking grave and sad. All their achievements of the day felt trampled under the weight of losing their newest family member. Olive hugged him tightly. It felt like the day Abe left, the emptiness that settled in the house after his departure. Back then she had not been able to fully understand the crushing pain Emma had experienced, although she herself had missed Abe. But now she could remember vividly how it felt to see Enoch leave her behind to go face Barron in the cellars and she realised how strong Emma really was. And now Jake was leaving too. Olive's heart broke for her friend as she waited for Enoch. She offered him a smile and her hand and hoped he would not ignore it. She needed to feel him next to her and his strong hand in her gloved one. She felt his fingers squeeze hers although he did not look at her as they walked along the 1943 pier.

Olive saw Emma following them, her shoes looking heavier than usual and her legs struggling to carry her despite the peace written on her face. She wanted to call out to her friend and tell her it was going to be fine but that was a lie and she did not have it in her heart. Instead she kept walking with Enoch, knowing that a lot of things needed to happen to make their temporary home liveable.

***

Extract from chapter 2: Jars of Hearts

… But now even as she was playing with her flames and Bronwyn's work was heating the ship, Olive could feel the tingle of ice in her veins. She wanted to shiver. She looked around, hoping to catch the necromancer, hoping the cold was an illusion created by her missing him but he was nowhere to be found. …


	2. Jars of Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 2: Jars of Hearts

In their abrupt escape from Cairnholm, they had not really paid attention to the state of the ship. By some miracle, it functioned and that was all the Peculiars had time to care about. There was no food and nowhere to sleep. The floors, stairs and walls were all covered in slimy algae, making them slippery and dangerous. They needed clean water, sustenance, clothing and blankets if they wanted to survive and Olive immediately started a list. After assigning various tasks from finding food and water to stealing blankets from the nearby town, she started using her flames to dry the ship as much as possible. Warming Emma's air would have been the best solution but Olive could not bring herself to disturb the blonde girl lost in turmoil on the top deck so she instead asked Bronwyn to wave some gigantic piece of plank around to fan the warm air.

Olive focussed on her flames. Although the ship was mostly damp, she really did not want her peculiarity to spiral out of control and burn one of the children, especially as the twins were running in circles around Bronwyn’s helicopter plank. She smiled as the fire danced in her palms. It had been a shock when the icy Wight had extinguished her flame without struggle. Olive had always thought her power too strong, too destructive and it had fizzled out like a firework in water. For the first time in her life, she had felt cold.

Even prior to developing her peculiarity, Olive was never cold. As a baby, she squirmed to free herself of the layers she was swaddled in. As a child, she would run out in the snow and play for minutes or hours at a time before her mother would find her and freak out at the sight. The dusty rose poncho that she sometimes wore was mostly against the wind. Olive hated the wind. Wind spreads flames and that always scared her.

But now even as she was playing with her flames and Bronwyn's work was heating the ship, Olive could feel the tingle of ice in her veins. She wanted to shiver. She looked around, hoping to catch the necromancer, hoping the cold was an illusion created by her missing him but he was nowhere to be found. He had escaped earlier with little Claire on his heels, saying he was going to explore the ship in the hope of finding more skeletons as they could come in handy.

Fiona and Hugh soon returned with food supplies and earth for Fiona to multiply and create a little vegetable patch on one of the decks. Millard and Horace were not far behind, their bickering regarding the quality of the blankets and clothes they had found could clearly be heard by the rest of the children.

"I cannot believe you picked up this half burnt blanket Millard! Haven't I taught you better? Decades of my teaching, wasted!" Horace was complaining loudly, stomping his feet on the newly dried wooden floor.

"Oh, get over yourself Horace, only half the blanket is burnt. We can cut it and it'll make a fine little blanket for Claire or Bronwyn." The invisible boy was undoubtedly rolling his eyes at his raiding partner’s antics.

"They have better taste than that, I can assure you!"

"We're on a shipwreck that stinks of rotting fish and stagnant seawater, they'll bloody cope!"

Olive's head was pounding from the argument and from the cold she just could not manage to shake. "Shut up, both of you! If you want to be useful, find said rotting fish and chuck it overboard!" She threw over her shoulder at the two boys who gaped at her, not used to any harshness from the older girl.

The redhead hurried down the steps leading to the exquisite dining room now empty of skeletons. Bronwyn ran behind her, still holding her plank and ready to warm and dry another part of the ship when Olive stopped abruptly, her gloved fingers gripping the back of a chair.

"Olive, are you alright?" The little girl looked at the pyromancer with concern shining in her brown eyes.

The teenager stayed silent as she sat down wearily and curled up on the damp chair, her knees drawn tight towards her chest and her head resting against the pink fabric of her dress, trying to get air into her constricted lungs. Bronwyn's plank clattered on the floor and she grabbed Olive's gloved hand softly, trying to control her death grip. "Olive?"

"Olive don't move, I'll be right back."

As Bronwyn's steps ran away from the dining room, Olive could feel tears roll down her face. They were cold and she could not tell whether it was the ice that still felt like it was crushing her or just the air in the ship. Her limbs felt stiff and although the chair was uncomfortable, Olive could not seem to regain control of her body to move. She felt frozen.

***

Enoch slammed his already battered body against the swollen wood again while muttering curse words under his breath so Claire could not hear them. He had spent the last three hours on the tedious task of crashing through all the damn doors of the ship to find useful things or skeletons and his shoulder, already badly bruised by the Hollow, felt like hell.

It had been useful however, as he had not only found half a dozen skeletons but also first aid supplies in waterproof tins, while Claire had been gathering tools, utensils and items that looked salvageable. He had caught the little girl look at him oddly a few times but she had not said anything and Enoch was not the type of person to engage willingly into a conversation.

They had therefore mostly worked in silence and were now several levels down from the bridge of the ship where they had left the other children. Claire would grab Enoch's hand every time they walked further and would skip alongside him while humming. Despite his constantly disgruntled behaviour, his biting replies and cynicism, Enoch was one of Claire's favourite people. Miss Peregrine had been surprised the first time her little Claire had clambered into Enoch's lap to watch Horace's projection. She had been about to rush forward to grab Claire's mug of hot cocoa before she dropped it over the moody teen, surely making things even worse than they could possibly be, when Enoch had calmly taken Claire's mug from her hands to hold it out of reach until the little girl was settled. Miss Peregrine had quickly shoved her pipe in between her lips to stop them quirking upwards and had gestured at Horace to start the film before any of the other children noticed anything.

"Enoch, will you kiss Olive again?"

The dark-haired teen stumbled forward as the rotten wood of the door finally gave out under his assault, opening onto what looked like a crew cabin. He swiftly regained his balance and looked in surprise at the little girl behind him. Her normally perfect ringlets were dishevelled and her ruffled cupcake of a dress had a rip where she had got herself caught on a rusty nail.

"What?"

"You know, you kissed her in the Tower when..." Claire elaborated timidly.

Enoch resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her and clenched his teeth. "Thank you, Claire, I was there. And it's none of your business." He replied shortly, feeling only slightly guilty at the hostile tone he had used on the little girl.

He returned to surveying the room in front of him, slamming drawers as he went, angry that Claire had brought up what he was fiercely trying to avoid. He had escaped the bridge as soon as possible because he did not want to face Olive or his feelings for her yet. He had run from the other children because he knew very well that as the atmosphere would relax, the nosy buggers would inevitably bring up what had transpired on the floor of the Tower. He had only tolerated Claire coming with him because he liked her best and he knew it was unfair to leave Olive dealing with all the younger ones while Emma was out for the count and Miss P. had not yet come back to the ship.

Enoch had not grown up with love. His own parents had been horrified to discover his strange talents, and they were people who were used to work alongside death all the time. They had shut him out early, not knowing how to handle their son's monstrosity. The bitter carelessness they had shown towards him, the cruel things they had called him and his peculiarity had carved wounds deep in his heart and so he had locked it away, like all the hearts he used for his creations, safe in glass jars. Even after joining Miss Peregrine's home, Enoch had struggled. He often felt overwhelmed by the other children there. A lot of them had survived hideous experiences due to their peculiarities but none of them had shut down quite as far as Enoch had and most of the time, they had healed and blossomed beautifully under the Ymbryne's care.

The other children were a bit creeped out by his skills, even if they had learnt to accept them the same way they dealt with Hugh's bees or Horace's sometimes nightmarish projections. But they were full of life and he felt dead. They enjoyed playing outside in the sun while Enoch hid away in his room to experiment with his homunculi. He had barely tolerated Olive at first, and that was only because she had been fascinated with his peculiarity. No one had ever thought it was amazing, but she did. She was the only one who saw his talent as breathing life rather than the grim labels he usually got.

He had slowly gotten used to her, the shadow of her presence behind him, handing him tools or fetching parts from the chaotic room. He had taken her for granted and had barely blinked when she was bouncing up and down asking Jake if Enoch was not amazing. Ensconced in a world of puppets and death, Enoch had not realised that Olive had opened the jar where he had carefully tucked away his own heart. Nearly losing her had shattered the glass and unleashed emotions he was not ready for. He felt suffocated under the weight of them, unable to cope with the magnitude of their meaning.

Bronwyn's rapid steps pulled him out of his thoughts. "Enoch, come quick! Something's wrong with Olive!" The little girl called out before running back where she came from.

Dread curled again in the pit of his stomach as he quickly scooped up Claire and ran after Bronwyn, abandoning the piles of bones and items they had carefully scavenged.

***

Extract from chapter 3: Of Frost and Puppets

… Bronwyn was stronger than the boy and contrary to her scuffles against her brother Victor, she knew she was quite capable of winning against Enoch. She was not afraid of his biting remarks even if they could be terribly unkind but she could tell he was genuinely upset and she did not want Claire to see that. …


	3. Of Frost and Puppets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 3: Of Frost and Puppets

Jake and Emma could see Miss Peregrine gliding above them and they shared a smile. They most likely would get scolded for the intense kiss they had shared in plain view of the Ymbryne but neither teenager cared. It had been a long journey for Jake to make his way back to 1943, and although he was carried by the hope of seeing Emma again, there had been lonely and dark times, especially when he was in the navy and did not know whether he would even survive long enough to find his way to the blonde girl again.

The time had been short for Emma, only a few hours, but they had felt like a stab wound slowly emptying her of life. Abe had never come back and it had taken her decades to even start to let go and now she was back in that nightmare and reprimanded herself for making the same mistake twice. She could not have imagined that Jake would undertake the incredibly dangerous task of frog-leaping across loops to find her again. Her heart had soared so high when she had turned around and seen him she had thought no lead shoes in the world could keep her grounded.

Below them, Millard and Horace, horrified by Olive's sharp outburst, had put their sartorial differences aside to start sorting through what they had raided and prepare bundles of clothes, blankets and necessities for all the Peculiars and their Ymbryne. Meanwhile, Hugh and Fiona had disappeared to find a suitable patch of deck for growing vegetables and plants for Hugh's bees.

"Yeah right!" Millard had muttered, perfectly aware of Hugh's feelings for the girl and slightly put out that he was losing his best friend to Fiona while he was stuck with Horace's lecture on how to best mend the bloody half burnt blanket.

Bronwyn had led Enoch and Claire to the dining room. She had desperately wanted to stay to comfort the red-haired girl, still curled up on the chair, but Enoch had thrown her so dark a glare that she had recoiled and had run away towards the decks with Claire. Bronwyn was stronger than the boy and contrary to her scuffles against her brother Victor, she knew she was quite capable of winning against Enoch. She was not afraid of his biting remarks even if they could be terribly unkind but she could tell he was genuinely upset and she did not want Claire to see that.

"Olive?"

The red-haired pyromancer squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of his voice and exhaled slowly. The shaking that had overtaken her whole body subsided a little as the syllables of her name rolled off his tongue but she could not bring herself to move. She heard the soft rustling of his clothes as he crouched in front of her and soon felt his hand on her own. Her fingers tingled a bit but it was not the consuming heat she would previously feel when he was near her or when she would hand him his tools back in his room on the island. Those sensations seemed so far away now.

Enoch sighed at the trembling girl in front of him. He did not know what to do and felt utterly lost. He was not completely stupid and had felt Olive had needed him ever since she had woken up in that dreadful theatre. He had read it in her eyes and in her discreet hand gesture as they went back to 1943 but amidst the chaos of returning to the ship, he had fled and they had not had a chance to talk about what had happened in Blackpool Tower. For all his pitting himself against Hollows and Wights and wielding of crossbows, he felt like a coward.

He was still contemplating what on earth to do when Olive untucked her chin from her knees and slid off her chair towards him. He clumsily extended his arms to grab her, bracing his knees against the wooden planks of the dining room floor to keep his balance. She buried her face against his neck and screaming shoulder and he could feel her tears running his skin and soaking his collar. They were glacial. Her cheek felt like sleet, oddly soothing against his bruises. Her breathing was still shallow, her skin clammy and shivering.

"Olive, you're freezing." Enoch mumbled trying to bring her closer to him to push the cold away. Her only response was a sniff and a sob.

"Why are you not using your flames? Is something wrong with them?"

Olive could feel his chest hum as he spoke softly to her and she shook her head quietly, trying to keep as close to him as possible. He felt warm against her and she felt so stupid, clinging to him so desperately. All he had done was acknowledge a few hours ago that he was sorry for taking her for granted. She still did not know what he had realised, or, when it comes down to it, how he felt about her. There was a long way between 'I never appreciated you' and 'I am madly in love with you' and Olive had longed for the latter for a long time.

***

When she had first arrived at the home with Emma, she had been wary of the other children and had stayed close to the blonde girl. Yet despite her stern attitude, Miss Peregrine had been warm and welcoming and Olive had soon found her place among her wards. The younger children particularly loved Olive as she possessed a softness they always found comforting. Olive therefore spent a lot of her time with them, enjoying their carefree spirits, while Emma had grown close to Abe. He had arrived not long after them and Emma had immediately been taken by him. Olive had missed Emma a lot as she was the only one around her age that talked to her. Victor did too, when he wasn't spending time with Bronwyn or playing rough with Millard and Hugh, but they had little in common. The only other Peculiar around her age was Enoch, and she did not really know what to make of him.

Most of the time, the other children avoided him and it was only at Miss P.'s bequest that he attended any form of socialising in the house. The only one who seemed to have any kind of connection with him was Claire, and Olive could not understand what the little girl saw in the moody teenager, especially as he would never make any effort to chat or play with her. Still, from the corner of her eye, she could see Claire curl up next to him on the sofa every evening and it intrigued her.

Olive had found out about his peculiarity through the other children but she had not witnessed it first-hand until one morning when Enoch had completely ignored Miss P.'s calls for breakfast. The headmistress had sent Olive to get him. Why the Ymbryne had sent Olive and not someone who could actually deal with the necromancer was lost on her, as was the glint of mischief in her carer's eye. She had braced herself before knocking on his door. He had grumbled something she could not make out and so she had stepped in. He had been furious at the intrusion until he had seen the wonder on her face. The other children hated his room as it was dark and full of 'creepy stuff' as Fiona had once put it.

Olive, on the other hand, had completely ignored his command to get out as she trailed her gloved fingers on the shelves. She had stopped once or twice to look more closely at a jar or to pick up a doll's head before circling his desk and standing behind him, enthralled with what he was doing. Enoch had glared at her as she had toured the room. No one apart from the Ymbryne was allowed in his room, yet the ethereal redhead had been strolling amongst his sinister collection like it was a rose garden. He was nearly done with his latest creation so he had chosen to ignore her when she had planted herself behind him. The puppet would probably make her flee if the jars had not. It was a particularly gruesome one, with a horrifying fox skull and he could not wait to see her reaction at its snapping jaw.

"That's wonderful!"

The gasp of horror he had been expecting had never come. She had leaned forward to inspect his creation more closely, barely withdrawing when he had silently ordered it to snap its menacing jaw at her. She had simply turned around to smile at him. "Breakfast is ready you know. I don't think this little guy needs pancakes but you certainly do."

The irritable teenager had eventually overcome his shock and nodded before following her down to the dining room where the rest of the children were noisily enjoying their food. Olive could often be found in Enoch's room after that day, helping him with his work. Eventually he had started to acknowledge her and to even talk to her. Olive, on the other hand, had been falling harder for him every day.

***

Extract from chapter 4: Dark Grey Wool

… He hoped Horace had found him another shirt and that no one would notice as he hated being fussed over. Unless it was Olive. He thought he could learn to cope with that. His brown eyes flicked to the object of his thoughts. …


	4. Dark Grey Wool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 4: Dark Grey Wool

Olive was still silently berating herself for reading too much into the recent events when she felt Enoch's arms fall away from her and her heart break a little. Was he going to push her away now? His gestures were still gentle but the loss of his warmth against her felt excruciating. He leaned away from her and she felt exposed. Her head hung limply, her copper hair hiding her face. She could not bring herself to look at him, terrified to meet his eyes and see nothing but cold when his body had felt so warm against hers.

She was still sitting against his leg so she knew he was still here but it was only when her head was engulfed in something scratchy and warm that she realised what was happening. He raised her arms one by one, wrestling them into the sleeves that felt gigantic around her gloved arms and pulled the dark grey fabric roughly over her head. The wool electrified her hair and she scowled at how terrible she must look when she heard his chuckle and his warm hand smoothing down the strands.

Her head snapped up disbelievingly. Enoch O'Connor did not chuckle. Ever. But there he was, with a sheepish grin on his face and mischief in his eyes as he pulled her towards him again. This time Olive snaked her arms around him, her gloved fingers squeezing the hem of his jumper sleeves to stop them from riding up. The feel of the coarse wool on her skin was odd. The hem tickled her collarbone and she breathed in. Under the residual stench of sea water, she could smell him and his warmth. The ice inside her was melting and she could feel her fire was slowly being rekindled.

***

Enoch slowly stood up, trying not to jolt Olive in his arms. He could tell from her breathing that she had fallen asleep, exhausted from the cold and the flames she had used to warm them all up and he scooped her up to carry her back to the bridge. It was deserted when he got there and he briefly wondered where everyone was. He spotted the bundles of blankets and clothes, and the carefully calligraphed tags that Horace had placed on each set. Refusing to let go of the girl in his arms, he awkwardly grabbed the ones that bore their names before making his way through the dining room again and to the cabins he had explored earlier with Claire.

He walked slowly, praying that he would not slip and acquire more injuries or worse, hurt Olive, and started poking his head into random cabins to find one that was acceptable. He had stayed on the dining room level, hoping that the combined drying efforts of Olive and Bronwyn had been enough to render somewhere borderline habitable and it did not take him long to find a more or less dry bed for her. He set her down gently and used all the available blankets to keep her warm. The colour had returned to her cheeks and he felt relieved. He wanted to curl up with her and keep her close but his brittle little heart was heading towards cowardice again so he settled for the chair that sat next to the bed. The velvet covered wood dug into his bruises and cuts.

Enoch sighed deeply as he observed the dried blood on his shirt. It had not seeped through the dark wool of the jumper so he had not noticed it until now. He hoped Horace had found him another shirt and that no one would notice as he hated being fussed over. Unless it was Olive. He thought he could learn to cope with that. His brown eyes flicked to the object of his thoughts. She looked beautiful, snuggled in his worn jumper and he could not resist kissing her temple softly before settling in his chair again and letting sleep overtake him.

***

Extract from chapter 5: Peculiar Rumours

… The twins were sitting on the floor, each hugging one of the Ymbryne’s legs. Horace was interjecting in Bronwyn's tale while mending a blanket that looked rather grim. Hugh was busy staring at Fiona while Millard was poking him in the ribs and pointing towards Jake and Emma who were whispering near the door. She smiled at the young boy who was clearly eager to tease the older couple. She would have to deal with those two later, when things settled down a bit. …


	5. Peculiar Rumours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 5: Peculiar Rumours

Alma Peregrine was surrounded by the children she loved and no one could understand how relieved and happy she was feeling at that particular moment. The hours of her capture by Barron had been traumatic, even knowing that Miss Avocet was in hiding behind the parlour doors and would do whatever it took to keep her children safe from the Hollow and from the dropping bomb.

She could feel her stomach in knots and her hands tremble as the children were taking turns to relay their adventure. She could hardly grasp what had happened to Miss Avocet, how Enoch had stupidly jumped in front of the Hollow, or how they had all escaped by sliding on the roof seconds before a bomb dropped on it. And that was not even with Emma and Jake just jumping off said roof, detail that Millard had added like it was a mere afterthought.

Her children had raised an entire vessel from the bottom of the sea to follow her. They had tricked and fought Hollows and Wights using their wits and peculiarities and not much else. She did not think she could ever feel prouder of all of them and her heart was bursting with love. She let her gaze trail over their happy faces as Bronwyn was explaining how they had started to organise the ship, simultaneously munching on a carrot that Fiona had just grown. The twins were sitting on the floor, each hugging one of the Ymbryne’s legs. Horace was interjecting in Bronwyn's tale while mending a blanket that looked rather grim. Hugh was busy staring at Fiona while Millard was poking him in the ribs and pointing towards Jake and Emma who were whispering near the door. She smiled at the young boy who was clearly eager to tease the older couple. She would have to deal with those two later, when things settled down a bit.

"Where are Olive and Enoch?" She asked abruptly, looking around.

She had seen them walk back towards the ship so she knew they were on board and she suddenly felt ashamed and concerned. She had not noticed they were missing until now. They had not been present on the deck with all the other children when she had landed and transformed back into her human form. Amongst the waves of children crashing into her to give her hugs and all chattering loudly at the same time, she had let the two teenagers slip from her mind.

"Hmm, not sure we want to know, Miss!" Millard snickered, while Hugh and Fiona exchanged a grin and the twins giggled to each other.

The Ymbryne looked towards Emma and Jake who had been interrupted by her outburst but they too seemed at a loss as to what the inside joke was. The blonde girl shrugged her shoulders and looked at Jake who had a dreamy look on his face. The boy could picture the hand Olive had extended towards Enoch as they left him in 2016 and he was busy processing the information that someone could actually like Enoch. Emma snapped her fingers in front of him and he smiled dumbly. Millard's comment had put ideas in his 17-year-old brain and Emma's shiny eyes and rosy cheeks were really not helpful in ignoring them.

Miss Peregrine, however, was not letting up. She had known for a long time that Olive fancied her moody puppeteer and had often wondered if Enoch would ever realise what was right in front of him. If Millard's comment was anything to go by, it seemed that he might have but be as it may, she wanted to see both of them. Her motherly instincts were telling her that she needed to check on them, and nothing the other children could tell her would make her feel differently. She could not ignore the prickle of worry nested at the back of her mind.

"Actually, Olive had some sort of breakdown when I was working with her on drying the ship so I found Enoch to help then took Claire outside for distraction. We hoped to see you arrive."

Bronwyn's eyes filled with tears as she realised that in her joy of seeing their Ymbryne, she had forgotten all about Olive. The pyromancer was always so lovely and patient with Bronwyn, especially after Victor had died so brutally. Bronwyn had promised herself one day she would give something back to Olive for her kindness and she had failed miserably. She burst into sobs. "I'm so sorry! I should have mentioned it sooner, I was just so excited to see you."

"Oh Bronwyn, don't worry yourself so. I'm sure Olive is fine. Where did you see them last?" The Ymbryne used her most comforting voice on the distressed child, and fought to keep any anxiety out of it. Now she really wanted to find the missing teens.

"Dining room." Bronwyn sniffled.

"Perfect. I want all of you to start putting a clean together so we can think about dinner before we leave the pier again. Fiona and Horace, could you kindly be in charge of cooking while Millard, Hugh and the younger ones set up a table in the dining room?"

All the children nodded eagerly. Even the twins, usually more trouble than help when it came to chores of any kind, were keen to show Miss Peregrine how grown up they could be. The headmistress smiled at her wards before zooming her sharp eyes on Emma and Jake, who were still hovering near the door, hoping to orchestrate their escape.

"Emma, Jake, come help me find Enoch and Olive." The Ymbryne's lips quirked up as the couple glanced at each other and shuffled their way towards her. Should she catch the other two teens in a situation similar to the one she had witnessed on the deck, she might as well kill two birds with one lecture.

***

Miss P. crossed the dining room where Hugh and Bronwyn were arguing over the best chairs to use and made her way down the half dry corridor, careful not to slip. She got Emma and Jake to open all the doors to the left of the hall while she worked her way through those on the right and she was relieved to hear Emma call for her softly so soon after starting the search. The blonde girl was grinning, her hand on the doorknob of one of the cabin and the Ymbryne raised an eyebrow in return before poking her head through the doorway.

Most of her worries melted away when she saw Olive bundled in a monumental pile of blankets that only allowed her face and part of her fiery hair to show. She rested her hand on Olive's forehead, but the teenager seemed to be in a peaceful slumber so she turned to her other ward, who was curled up in a chair next to the pyromancer. His dark curls contrasted with his pale skin and the Ymbryne noted how prominent the shadows under his eyes were. His head rested at an odd angle and she could not figure out how he managed to sleep in that position. He would have to be woken up.

"Enoch. Enoch, wake up." The Ymbryne was trying to gently shake him awake when she noticed the dry blood on the side of his shirt. They were only little stains and spots but it didn't matter. Her boy was hurt, and he was not waking up. She knew how easy it was to wake him up normally and she was growing uneasy at his lack of response.

"Emma, exactly how many of those skeletons did Enoch raise today?"

Emma furrowed her brow, not quite understanding why it was relevant. "I don't know. A dozen? Maybe more? Things were a bit chaotic out there so I didn't really keep track of him and his weird soldiers." She looked down and shuffled in her lead shoes.

Jake frowned. "Is Enoch alright? Why does it matter how many things he brought back to life today?"

"While peculiarities are part of one individual, they're trained, like muscles. If you never use your peculiarity, you'll struggle to control it, but also it won't be as developed or strong as it could be."

"But he uses his peculiarity all the time. He loves creeping us out with it." Emma countered.

"Not exactly. It’s not like I could really have him raise the dead in our house. While I did let him have a go if I had to kill the pub landlord or the police constable, it is hardly the same as raising multiple skeletons that have been resting for a few decades. The dead can be terribly contrary you know. And the little homunculi he creates are obviously child's play next to a giant elephant puppet. Enoch pushed himself too much, he shouldn't have gone that far. He's going to need a lot of rest."

The Ymbryne brushed some curls out of the sleeping youth's face and asked for Jake to help her carry him next door. Emma quietly took a couple of blankets from Olive's nest and followed them as silently as her shoes allowed her to. She cast a last glance at her sleeping friend, wondering what had happened to her and why her face was stained with dry tears. Emma felt like she had been a terrible friend. Wrapped up in her own drama, she had not detected anything wrong with Olive.

***

Extract from chapter 6: Dinner Parties and Blanket Cairns

… Everyone had to share the few beds available and she oversaw the distribution with a stern face, making sure that Emma did in fact enter the room where Olive was fast asleep. Jake had sighed but not said anything as he dragged his immensely tired body towards the bed he was going to share with Horace as Millard and Hugh had dashed towards and another room and were fighting to enter first and grab the best pillow. …


	6. Dinner Parties and Blanket Cairns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 6: Dinner Parties and Blanket Cairns

Despite their meagre supplies, dinner had been a boisterous affair in the grandiose dining room. While Fiona had had no problems growing enough vegetables to feed them all, the children had not been able to source a lot of other things to prepare them with and chunky vegetable soup with bread was the order of the day. None of the Peculiars cared, apart from Horace, who hated soup. The chance of it getting on his clothes was rather high whilst seated next to the twins.

Bronwyn had been relieved to hear that Olive was alright and fast asleep and therefore had chattered like a magpie through most of the meal. And while Miss Peregrine usually attempted to have at least a minimum of order and decorum at the table, she could not bring herself to discipline the children. She had even given up on lecturing Emma and Jake on their rather public display of affection and amused herself with the way the two teens could barely focus on their dinners.

The adjoining lounge, with its deep seats, was perfect for everyone to sit together and watch Horace's projections. The Ymbryne cringed at the musty smell of the barely dry armchairs and sofas but by then, all the children were exhausted and happy, with bellies full of food. They could have gone directly to bed, but they were reluctant to go their separate ways after so many adventures and the headmistress thought their house tradition of all sitting together watching something would help them settle down.

She took her usual spot at the back of Horace's chair, which he had planted in between two sofas. Everyone was bundling up on the cushions, yawning and ready to doze off in front of whatever sartorial review Horace was going to present them with when the Ymbryne noticed Claire standing to the side, looking lost.

"Claire, what's wrong? Do you not want to join us?"

The little girl looked around, her hands playing with the torn hem of a pink ruffle. "Where's Enoch? I want to sit with him like always."

The Ymbryne realised with a pang that the little girl being quiet and withdrawn had had little to do with her level of tiredness. While she had made sure to let Bronwyn and the younger children know that Olive was fine, nothing had been said of Enoch and while the others had most likely assumed he had stayed with Olive, Claire must have felt differently. She extended her arms towards the little girl, beckoning her to come closer.

"He was really tired Claire, so he's sleeping now. Why don't you sit with me for once? I would love some Claire cuddles." The Ymbryne smiled her warmest smile, making sure that any lingering remnant of worry towards the dark-haired boy was pushed back down where no one could see it. She was greeted by Claire's illuminated face as the girl climbed up on the cozy chair in a rustle of pink fabric, which the Ymbryne smoothed down as best as she could and nodded at Horace to start the projection.

The youngest children had nodded off soon after and the headmistress had announced bedtime shortly as soon as Horace’s projection finished. Everyone had to share the few beds available and she oversaw the distribution with a stern face, making sure that Emma did in fact enter the room where Olive was fast asleep. Jake had sighed but not said anything as he dragged his immensely tired body towards the bed he was going to share with Horace as Millard and Hugh had dashed towards and another room and were fighting to enter first and grab the best pillow.

Bronwyn, Claire and Fiona, used to sharing a room back home, opted to snuggle together in one bed. The Ymbryne bit her lips but did not say anything. Bronwyn and Fiona would soon enough find out how much Claire moved and kicked in her sleep and hopefully the three girls were much too tired for it to be a bother. With all the children tucked in and falling asleep fast, the Ymbryne made her way back to Enoch's room. She wanted to check his injuries before she collapsed from weariness herself.

***

Olive felt like she was in a giant cocoon. The blankets piled on top of her were heavy and smelled of dust and metal. She could still feel the wool of Enoch's jumper on her soft skin and his lingering scent in the threads. She smiled at the thought of him before attempting to open her eyelids. The dry tears had stuck them together and she pried them open to take in her surroundings. Above her, she could see a mini Mount Everest of blankets, explaining why she felt so warm. The rest of the cabin appeared empty. A chair covered in musty velvet sat next to the bed and the shelves which had no doubt at some point contained various items and objects had long fallen apart in a corner, leaving only a small side table holding a lantern.

She could hear a regular whirring noise and extracted her right ear from the blanket cairn. She snorted as she immediately recognised it as Emma snoring. She had after all, roomed with the blonde girl for a few decades now and knew what to expect. It always baffled Olive that such a dainty and light girl as Emma, who on top of it controlled air, snored. Right now, it was amusing but Olive had previously spent many nights kicking her roommate into silence.

"How did I get here?" Olive mumbled to herself, sitting up and trying to shake the sleep from her face. She could only remember being in the dining room and breaking down against Enoch. Olive felt herself blush furiously as she recalled how pathetic she had been and hid her face in her fingers, groaning. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

"Who's stupid?" Emma replied before breaking into an impressive yawn and stretching her long limbs, careful to keep the blanket tucked in tightly so she would not float up to the ceiling.

"Stupid little Olive is stupid." Came Olive's response, still muffled by her hands. She felt Emma shift beside her and come to a sitting position.

"Hmm, ok. And why is stupid little Olive stupid?"

Emma recalled how selfish she had felt the previous night when they had found the pyromancer so she battled the wish to go back to sleep to get some information out of her friend. She strained her ear as Olive was still mumbling through her hands in broken and agitated sentences that barely made sense. Emma's head started to hurt as she tried to untangle the redhead's tale and she frowned.

"So... You feel stupid because you were exhausted and freezing and scared as a result of an assault from a grown-up Wight that left you practically for dead and you ended up crying your heart out on ol' grumpy Enoch's shoulder?" Emma raised a delicate eyebrow and directed her hazel eyes towards Olive. Emma was far from stupid but at this moment in time, she felt like she was missing important piece of information. She let her eyes roam over the redhead, who looked tiny and fragile. Olive usually looked soft, yes, but she had a strength that glowed through her that, right now, looked extinguished.

Emma's gaze stopped on the decidedly familiar grey wool. She recalled Millard's joke comment the previous day and Bronwyn's tale of the animated elephant puppet the necromancer had used to save Olive's life. Bronwyn had stopped herself when Fiona's pointy elbow had connected with her ribs and the nature girl had just concluded Bronwyn’s story saying that Olive had led them out of the Tower. Now Emma was terribly curious to find out what Bronwyn had been about to say and why the younger children appeared exceedingly entertained by it all.

"Olive, what exactly happened with Enoch in the Tower?"

The redhead shrugged her weary shoulders. "Not sure. I have not been able to talk to him about it. When I was frozen, he said things like how he never appreciated me and he was sorry but he trailed off or it all felt fuzzy and I'm not sure. Once we got back to the ship he disappeared with Claire and then… dining room fiasco, I didn't talk to him either, we just hugged and yeah... I just... don't know..."

Emma bit back a smile as she thought it a most inappropriate response to Olive's devastated tone. Olive did not seem to realise the depth of the boy’s actions. He did not apologise to people, hold any hands aside from Claire's, and he certainly absolutely did not offer hugs or his favourite jumper. "Olive my darling, I'm sure you'll get to talk to him eventually but right now you should get yourself some breakfast. You missed dinner and you haven't eaten in more than 24 hours. Miss P. will give me her killer glare if you don't go see her. She was worried when she found you in that fort of blankets and your puppet master curled up in the chair."

"He was here?"

"Of course he was, you noodle. Miss P. had Jake help her carry him to bed. She said he'd be sleeping for a while after all the zombie battles he directed." This time the blonde could not help but smirk at the glow returning on her friend's face and the fact that Jake being back had completely escaped the redhead.

"You know, they're not actually really zombies Emma. In voodoo culture, zombies aren't-" Olive started lecturing, irritated that, as usual, no one cared to understand Enoch's peculiarity.

"Please don't be a Horace, or I will throw one of my shoes at your pretty head. Now shoo, I need more sleep if I want to have the energy to sneak around the ship with Jake." Emma had fallen back onto the bed and rolled herself like a caterpillar in one of Olive's blankets.

Olive sighed and started looking for her shoes that the necromancer had carelessly dumped on the floor on the previous day when she froze. "Wait, Jake is back??"

"GO AWAY, OLIVE!"

***

Extract from chapter 7: Jam Fingers and Puzzles

… Olive smiled cheerfully. It felt like being back in the loop, when Hugh forgot his net and Millard invariably turned up in the most indecent attire to spy on the happenings. Miss Peregrine had stayed at the helm but had left the doors to the bridge open, ensuring she could supervise the chaos unfolding in the dining room. "Mr. Nullings, please find some clothes." Her order floated serenely over the breakfast table, silencing the children. …


	7. Jame Fingers & Puzzles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 7: Jam Fingers and Puzzles

Olive had made her way to the bridge. The display of breakfast foods set on the dining room table had looked awfully tempting but she wanted to see Miss Peregrine and she thought she would find her steering the ship. They had clearly departed from Blackpool pier overnight and were now sailing on a rather rough sea. Olive had lost her balance a couple of times on her way up the stairs and hoped she would not be sick. The weather had turned dreadful overnight and she had forgotten how much noise the rain pounding down on them could make.

"Olive! How are you feeling?" The Ymbryne smiled at her, removing her pipe from her red lips, delighted to see the girl back on her feet.

"I'm fine, thank you Miss."

Olive did not scramble towards the Ymbryne like the younger children had done the previous evening but she did wrap her arms around the older woman, pleased to have her back. The headmistress hugged the slightly shorter redhead and rested her cheek against her copper hair before letting go of her to observe her more closely. She still did not know what had been wrong with her ward when she had collapsed. However, just like Emma had, she very quickly noticed the grey jumper.

"Olive are you cold? You're never cold." Concern was evident in the older woman's voice. Pyromancers just did not need jumpers and the Ymbryne wondered just how powerful that Wight had been to leave her little flame of a girl feeling so fragile.

"Not anymore, no." Olive was playing with the worn hem of one sleeve and she shivered at the recollection of the ice taking over her. She hoped she would never be cold again. "I woke up feeling like a volcano under all those blankets." She added with a grin, her green eyes finding Miss Peregrine’s.

The Ymbryne laughed heartily. "Yes, it seems Enoch might have gone a bit overboard."

She watched Olive's cheeks redden to match her hair as the girl turned on her heel to escape towards the safety of breakfast. She resumed her steering with another laugh. Things were certainly going to be interesting.

***

Breakfast had quickly erupted into as noisy an affair as dinner. Bronwyn kept piling food on Olive's plate and urging her to eat. The older girl was grateful when Jake strolled in and stole half of her plate after seeing the predicament she was in. Of course, that did earn him a tap on the head from Bronwyn, which must have felt like an earthquake. Olive giggled. Emma would certainly be happy to kiss it better.

"I'm glad you came back Jake." Olive managed to say before one of the twins handed her another spoonful of porridge.

Jake grinned. "So am I. My grandpa was happy to see me, but I think he was even happier when I decided to find you guys again."

"Abe should have come with you!" Hugh interjected, burping out some bees that immediately made their way towards the fruit salad.

"As much as he loves all of you, I think the prospect of his old self being stuck on a stinky ship with all of us kids appeared quite traumatic to him."

"Miss P. is old, and she's fine with us. We're pretty brilliant after all!" A voice came from Jake's left.

"Millard! Go put some clothes on!" Fiona shouted over the cacophony that had followed the invisible boy's comment.

Olive smiled cheerfully. It felt like being back in the loop, when Hugh forgot his net and Millard invariably turned up in the most indecent attire to spy on the happenings. Miss Peregrine had stayed at the helm but had left the doors to the bridge open, ensuring she could supervise the chaos unfolding in the dining room. "Mr. Nullings, please find some clothes." Her order floated serenely over the breakfast table, silencing the children.

Everyone glanced at each other before bursting out laughing at the realisation that Miss P. had most likely heard Millard call her old. Oh, what they would give to see his expression right now. The invisible boy's voice could be heard grumbling as he left the dining room, bumping into Emma, who looked rather put off at his lack of clothing, and which only served to fuel the laughter around the table.

Claire's back mouth was squeezed tightly to avoid spitting out the morsel of toast she had started to chomp on when the laughter erupted. Expelling it against her curls would be rather disgusting and the little girl focussed hard on swallowing it. She was feeling better after cuddling with Miss P. and sleeping in the bed with Fiona and Bronwyn. She had had a great night and had woken up with loads of space around her while the other two girls had nearly fallen off of the mattress. She was excited to be back at sea and to find out where they were all going. She missed the old house and her dolls. She missed the sunny island and their beautiful garden that Fiona had sculpted. But Enoch could always make her some new dolls and Fiona would create another garden and Miss P. would find them another house, just like Miss Avocet had promised.

Enoch!

The little girl looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her favourite person. Her smile dropped when she realised he still was not there. Everyone had been at breakfast for quite some time now and she missed him dearly. She slid off her chair and made her way to Olive. No one else appeared to have noticed what the redhead was wearing but Claire sure had as she had snuggled against it many an evening. She beckoned the older girl towards her and whispered in her ear. She did not want to make another fuss in front of the other children in case they were now awake enough to tease her.

Upon seeing Claire's unhappy face at the news that the older boy was still sleeping, Olive nodded towards the door and winked at the little girl. Claire's face broke into a grin and she grabbed Olive's gloved hand discreetly, pulling her towards the corridor. Thankfully, the rest of them were distracted by Emma and Jake who were pestering each other with offerings of breakfast foods. Olive caught Hugh and Horace looking mildly disgusted and grinned before disappearing from the dining room. She obviously was going to look for Enoch because of the little girl tugging fiercely on her hand. Obviously.

"A liar and a coward, Olive!" She muttered between clenched teeth.

It did not take long to find him and she winced when she saw Claire land directly on his chest in her hurry to climb on his bed. An exponentially disgruntled Enoch was not what she hoped to deal with as she was trying to face her absurdly strong feelings for the boy. He, however, did not budge. His breathing remained even and his face relaxed. His shirt was half open where the headmistress had checked his cuts and his exposed collarbone held a sickly black and blue tinge. The sight of the injury frankly did nothing to stop the blush rising to Olive's cheeks as she thought back to how he had placed himself in front of all of them and been grabbed by the Hollow.

Warmth pooled in her heart as she watched him sleep, Claire snuggled against him with her pointy knee in his ribs. Emma had clearly caught on to her crush and the pyromancer had long been used to Miss Peregrine's amused and questioning stares. She had caught the younger children giggle as she had held his hand on the pier, and she was even pretty sure that Jake suspected something. But for all their gentle teasing, none of them had even come close to the truth of how she felt about him.

She had spent so many of their loop days standing just behind him, waiting for his outstretched hand to request a tool or a part. She could picture exactly how he moved and the way he pushed the needle and thread to stitch his creations together. They often looked gruesome and like they had been haphazardly thrown together but Olive knew better. She had observed him analyse the mechanical properties of all the parts he used so carefully. She had fallen in the love with the precise way he worked, with the focus that showed on his face as he gently placed the hearts that had sprung back to life in his hand inside the dolls. She was convinced that someone who could handle hearts so attentively had to be special and she had just given him hers without any further thought.

Olive sighed. He did not even know he had it. The boy who lived surrounded by hearts had not noticed that hers had long ago joined his collection...

"Olive, make him wake up please." Claire interrupted her thoughts. Her little jam-stained fingers were poking his eyebrow and the redhead laughed.

"He didn't even stir when you jumped on him, I don't think I can do anything. We should let him rest Claire. You don't want him to be in a really foul mood, do you?"

"You could kiss him. Then he wouldn't be mad." Claire responded stubbornly.

"Claire!" Olive fought valiantly to bring her red cheeks back under control. "You can't just kiss people to wake them up!" Olive was perfectly aware that she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince the blonde little girl.

"He did and you woke up though."

Olive was gobsmacked.

"You don't remember? When you were frozen? You looked dead, it was really, really scary. But Enoch woke you up and I was so happy. D'you think he used his peculiarity on you?" The little girl rambled on, still poking strawberry jam onto his face.

Olive's brain was working hard to process the information, digging deep to extract the remnants of what had happened in the theatre. She shuddered as she remembered once again the ice, the Wight's cruel voice. She could hear Enoch calling her name, the pieces of his words she had attempted to cling to. He had never realised… He had kissed her. Her flames danced around her heart, more powerful than they had ever felt.

Claire meanwhile, had slid off the bed and had stomped her way towards the misty-eyed girl. "Oliiiive, wake him up please."

Olive shook her thoughts away to focus on the demanding girl. "Miss P. would be rather upset if we did, Claire. Why don't you go play with Bronwyn for a bit and I'll stay here in case he wakes up? And after lunch you can try to wake him up again if he's still sleeping."

Claire frowned but playing with Bronwyn did not seem like a bad idea. She was contemplating Olive's plan when the older girl took off the grey jumper. "Why don't you take that with you and keep it safe for him?"

Olive handed the grey wool to Claire, hoping the little girl would be placated by it. She resented losing the feel of the harsh fabric against her skin but she was determined to distract the little girl. Claire finally broke into a smile and ran out with the jumper half over her head, bumping loudly into the doorframe.

"BRONWYN, BRONWYN, where are you??"

Olive exhaled loudly as she heard the clattering of Claire's scuffed shoes fade rapidly in the direction of the bridge and she pushed the door shut before turning back towards the sleeping teen. She sat on the edge of his bed and smoothed the fabric of her light pink dress. She kicked off her dirty shoes and brought her feet underneath her, her mind still reeling with the essential piece of the puzzle that Claire had unknowingly given her. She looked at his peaceful face, a rare expression on his features. She grinned at the jam that Claire had left on his eyebrow and leaned forward to remove it. Except her brain clearly lost it and her gloved hand fell away from his face. It was her lips that connected with the jam.

Olive was horrified. After decades of controlling her impulses, she had come undone by the ideas planted in her head by a cheeky six-year-old. She leaned away abruptly and grabbed her shoes. Her trembling hands were fighting with the laces as she once more berated herself for her stupidity and tried to push away the thought of how his skin had felt under her lips. She suddenly felt him shift and realised he was staring at her. Her cheeks grew hotter than she ever thought they could. How long had he been awake?

***

Enoch had actually been woken up by the thud of Claire's hard skull against the doorframe and her shouting for Bronwyn. His head felt foggy. The headache that had exploded behind his eyes after the elephant had collapsed in Blackpool Tower had gone down to a dull but still irritating migraine. His shoulder was swollen and his ribs painful. Had something rammed into them recently? He could not remember them throbbing so much. He had a vague recollection of the Ymbryne trying to wake him up. The effort of responding or opening an eye had been too much at the time. He thought he had heard her ask Jake to help but the American boy had been left behind in 2016 and that just did not make sense.

What he was however pretty sure of was that Olive was currently in a complete panic on the edge of his bed, her gloved hands wrestling with the laces that she had not undone prior to kicking off her shoes. His breath had caught when he had felt her kiss and he had wanted to hold her but she had leaned away from him so suddenly, his sleepy limbs had not had any time to catch her. He took his chance now, since she was distracted with the 'damn shoes' as she was calling them softly. It made him smile as Olive never cursed and he quickly wrapped his hands around her wrists before pulling her down towards him.

The 'damn shoe' clanged on the wooden floor as he tightened his arms around her and buried his face in the back of her neck. Olive was quiet and barely dared to breathe. Her heart was galloping like a lunatic. She could feel Enoch's hair against hers and his soft breathing against her neck, his hands still holding her wrists. She could tell he was on his way to falling asleep again and she had to talk to him. She gathered all the courage she could muster before speaking softly.

"Enoch, you never realised what?" Her whispered words seemed barely there and the boy stayed silent so she attempted to plow on. "You never said. In Blackpool... Claire said..."

The fire girl could not finish her sentence and it hung in the air heavily. Enoch inhaled deeply against her skin, attempting to control his own heartbeat that seemed to be competing with Olive's. Claire, the little chatterbox, had probably told Olive everything that the pyromancer could not remember properly. If she had had any doubts, they were gone and she had to know he had kissed her. Still, it scared him, telling her how much he felt for her. Enoch had never been good with words and his only talent lied in sarcasm. He knew he had to though, as the prospect of letting her slip away from him was far worse than anything he could tell her.

"I never realised how much you mean to me." He finally whispered back, knowing it was only half the truth. Olive shifted a bit to turn her head towards him. He could see all the emotions swimming in her clear eyes and he briefly wondered how much of a fool he had been to never notice them. It pushed him to admit the rest to her.

"I never realised how much I love you."

He bit his bottom lip sharply. He had taken his battered heart that barely knew how to love and he had laid it at her feet. The mere seconds since he had said it felt like a thousand loop days until he saw her face light up. All the aches that seemed to plague him faded in the background as she turned in his arms and crashed her soft lips against his.

***

Extract from chapter 8: A Walk of Shame

… Olive strained her ear to attempt to catch the noises on the ship. She knew she had to move but she loathed the thought of it and contemplated whether she actually cared if she got caught. Her stomach informed her that lunch could not be far away and she rolled her eyes at herself. Clearly, she would have to move. …


	8. A Walk of Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 8: A Walk of Shame

Olive had never felt so great. She could not for the life of her understand how she had managed to go on for so many years without feeling him against her. She could stay on this dreadful, stinking wreck of a ship forever if it meant being able to kiss Enoch. It had been clumsy and intense at first, borderline violent, as both of them had hoarded so many feelings for the other. Olive thought her flames would burn them both to a crisp if they had managed to roam free. She felt more alive than ever before, like his touch could breathe even more life into her. She thought again how spectacular his peculiarity was and she hoped no one would think to check on them as the kiss she had initiated had escalated from tentative to vastly scarring for younger eyes.

He could feel Olive's gloved hands tangle in his curly hair and her warm skin against his bruised collarbone. Kissing Olive now was nothing like it had been in the Tower, when her lips had felt polar and her skin had been covered in sharp ice crystals. When he had felt like he was drowning and suffocating in his failure to save her. This Olive belonged in his arms and he enjoyed the way he could feel her skin sizzle when he trailed his lips on it, as if the fire was trying to get out. He suddenly broke the kiss to look at her and earned himself a frown for the unwelcome interruption.

"Take them off."

Olive stared at him like he was insane. She knew what he meant and she wished she could. She wanted to let her hands wander over him and actually feel him. She hated the way her gloves got caught in his hair or in the fabric of his shirt. It just was not fair.

She shook her head. "I'll burn you. You know I don't always control it and I don't think I have any control right now."

The necromancer ignored her response completely and grabbed one of her hands. Olive fought against his grip, knowing he was stronger than her and that he was going to do something incredibly stupid. But he just played with her fingers and threw her a smile. Olive scowled. She had to get a grip, his smile was dangerous.

"Please Olive, take them off. I trust you."

He knew she was scared and how destructive her peculiarity could be. But like she had always thought his talents wonderful, he had never been frightened by hers. Impressed, yes, but not scared. In the back of his mind, he was certain that Olive would never truly hurt him. She sighed and rolled on her back to tug the long black gloves off. He knew he would have to be gentle. The carelessness with which they had tossed away their control earlier could not happen again. But then, neither of them was ready for the path it would lead them on anyway, so he swiftly squashed the lust building in him before propping himself up on his injured shoulder and softly capturing Olive's now swollen lips with his own as her gloves slipped from her grasp to join the 'damn shoes' on the floor.

Olive's hands were hovering in the air above them. She could not bring herself to lower them against Enoch. What if she burnt him? What if she lost control? He had slowed their pace, but she was struggling to relax into the tender kiss. He released her lips and started kissing the side of her face and she felt herself melt. That boy truly was dangerous, she thought faintly, as her hands softly ran along his back without her realising.

His eyes danced with laughter as he kissed her again. Her fingertips felt hot on the fabric covering his back but he did not mind. Enoch was always a little bit cold anyway. He gasped softly when her hands found the hem of his shirt and glided against his skin, leaving pink trails behind. He felt warmer and happier than he ever had and he wished that feeling would never fade.

***

Olive strained her ear to attempt to catch the noises on the ship. She knew she had to move but she loathed the thought of it and contemplated whether she actually cared if she got caught. Her stomach informed her that lunch could not be far away and she rolled her eyes at herself. Clearly, she would have to move. She hoped she would not wake up Enoch in the process. He had dozed off a few minutes before, as exhaustion had eventually caught up with him again. Olive's stomach had no idea how he could just go back to sleep without any food and she made a mental note to bring him something later as he had not eaten anything since Cairnholm.

Rolling away from him and their nest of blankets was unpleasant, but she forced herself to stand up and quickly grabbed her gloves from the floor before resuming the shoelace battle that the dark-haired boy had interrupted earlier. She grinned at the 'damn shoes' that had slowed down her escape and after putting them on, ran her hands through her dishevelled hair. She most likely looked a frightful mess.

She stopped to stare once more at the sleeping boy. He looked as rumpled as she did with his hair sticking out at odd angles and she laughed a little as she tried to smooth down his curls and straighten up his shirt. Her breath caught as she saw all the little burns she had left on his skin. Tiny traces of angry pink. She had not set him on fire but she still felt awful for burning him. When she had noticed, she had freaked out but he had laughed and stated he liked it. She had retorted he was nuts and had tried to snatch her gloves, but he had swiftly rolled on top of her and trapped underneath him, she had lost all willpower or coherent thought. Yes, he was incredibly dangerous.

Shaking her head, Olive quietly opened the door. She did not have far to go. If only she could make it to her cabin just next door, she could fix herself up and-

"So, how's that walk of shame treating you, Olive?"

The pyromancer froze in her tracks and squeezed her eyes shut against the taunting voice. So close. She had been so, so close. Olive opened her green eyes and glared at her roommate, who was casually leaning against the wall. Emma cackled as Olive narrowed her eyes.

"No, it's not quite an Enoch-level glare yet, sorry. You are too adorable. Now let's get you out of here before you traumatise the children."

Emma pulled her into their cabin and pushed her down on the bed before grabbing a hairbrush that little Claire had found during her scavenging the previous day. Olive sighed but let Emma run the brush through her knotted hair.

"Shouldn't you be sneaking around this stinking ship with Jake? I believe that was your entire program of the day."

Emma raised an eyebrow at Olive's sour tone. "My, isn't someone grumpy? Spending too much time with a certain grouch, are we? Funny, judging by the state of your neck, I'd expect you to be far more relaxed than that."

Olive's eyes widened and her hand flew to hide the spot under her ear where she knew he had left a mark. Payback for burning her handprint in his side he had said. She could sense Emma shake with silent laughter behind her and Olive's cheeks once more took a most violent shade of red. The blonde dropped the hairbrush and hugged her friend.

"Oh Olive, don't be upset with me, I'm just teasing. I want you to be happy. I'll have you know that I made sure Miss P. wouldn't check on you all morning. I had to bribe Fiona but it was worth it. She and Millard are keeping our nosy carer well busy asking all sorts of questions about the steering of ships and calculating courses. They thought it was so I could hide with Jake. I'm not going to lie, I didn't let that particular opportunity go to waste, but really, I did it for you."

Olive did break into a small smile. "How did you know where I was?"

"Little Claire looked mighty pleased with herself when she got back to the dining room and I noticed she was wearing Enoch's jumper. It was easy enough to figure out that she had tricked you."

Olive rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Claire doesn't have a trickster bone in her body."

"If you say so." Emma smirked, fully aware of the little girl's scheming talents. "Now please tell me you are happy."

The red-haired girl looked down at her gloves and Emma felt a bit of dread enter her. Was something really wrong? Maybe things had not worked out so well between the necromancer and her friend.

"I'm happy." Olive eventually breathed.

"Could have fooled me."

"No, really. I am. It's just... I really miss him."

Emma blinked slowly. "You... are even more disgusting than I am. You were with him until now!"

Olive's laughter rang in the cabin as she tackled her friend, sending the discarded hairbrush flying across the small room.

***

Extract from chapter 9: The Little Pile of Bread

… Emma had quickly settled herself next to Jake and untied her shoes to place them in her lap to avoid hovering over her chair. Olive knew the blonde's legs were tangled with Jake's under the table to stop them floating and she looked at her friend with envy, wondering when she would be able to play footsie with a certain someone. …


	9. The Little Pile of Bread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 9: The Little Pile of Bread

When Enoch regained consciousness, he was greeted with dusk. The little lamp that the Ymbrine had left shining next to his bed was still emitting its warm and feeble glow but the dirty porthole had turned dark. The room gently rocked and he knew the weather had shifted again. He saw that someone had left a sandwich on a gleaming white porcelain plate bearing the initials of the ship. 'Eat me!' said a little note propped up against the plate. Upon seeing Olive's neat handwriting, the dark-haired teen sank back in his pillow. The sandwich was not nearly as appetizing as the thought of her and his brain was happily skipping towards fantasies that unquestionably did not involve the little pile of bread.

He could still feel her heat pulse through the burns she had sprinkled on his pale skin. The handprint branded against his ribs felt alive as the fabric of his shirt brushed on it. She had been angry with herself, angry with him, when she had realised what she had done. 'I told you so' had been written all over her features and she had been on the verge of tears. He had not lied though, he did like the scorching impressions of her peculiarity on him. He did not think them painful; everything about Olive was too beautiful to be painful.

Pushing his rather improper thoughts to the back of his mind, he rolled off the mattress and stumbled to the floor of the cabin. Standing on his feet felt like a superhuman effort and his pounding headache returned once more with a vengeance. He rested his forehead against the mouldy and cool wood of the door and breathed slowly, hoping that his aches would settle. He eventually found the shirt that Horace had secured for him before their departure from Blackpool pier, and the basin of water in which he managed to wash away some of the grime and tiredness. He moved sluggishly and felt decrepit, but the thought of once again collapsing on the hard mattress was frankly unappealing. For the first time since he had entered Miss Peregrine's loop, he missed the other children and their disorderly ways. He wanted to see them all, and above everything else, he yearned to be with Olive.

***

The Ymbryne had looked with suspicion at the two teenage girls when they had entered the dining room for lunch. They were walking arm in arm, giggling and whispering to each other and she had an inkling of just what that conversation was about when Emma had winked at Jake in a not so subtle manner. The Ymbryne was no fool. She knew just what Emma and Jake had spent their morning doing and she had seen through Fiona's and Millard's plots pretty quickly. And now Olive looked so vibrant, like she might burst into flames at the lunch table. The headmistress had sighed. She was much better equipped to deal with the younger children than her older wards and their raging hormones.

"Emma, Olive, how kind of you to join us. You are both late for lunch, so I trust you will be happy with the list of chores I have prepared for your afternoon."

The blonde had looked at the ceiling and the redhead had cast her eyes down in shame but both girls had eventually nodded and made their way to their seats. Emma had quickly settled herself next to Jake and untied her shoes to place them in her lap to avoid hovering over her chair. Olive knew the blonde's legs were tangled with Jake's under the table to stop them floating and she looked at her friend with envy, wondering when she would be able to play footsie with a certain someone.

Lunch had gone without any further excitement and Olive was grateful for it as she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. The Ymbrine, worried about the dreadful weather, had found a sheltered creek along the coast. The ship still rocked to some degree and to Horace's disappointment, but at least she felt her children would be safe. The decks were of limits and everyone was getting bored of playing in the lounge. Millard and Hugh bitterly regretted their football, left somewhere in the Cairnholm garden. Bronwyn and Claire had used up all their chalk playing and drawing on the lounge’s carpeted floor and their moods had since dropped rapidly into sullenness.

Miss Peregrine had therefore set everyone with chores for the afternoon. The ship was after all still abysmally dirty and unsafe, with its broken furniture and rusted metal everywhere, and she supervised operations with sharp attention. Scraping the floors, washing the doors and furniture, moving the broken metal and wood to parts of the ship they would not use had exhausted most of their afternoon hours and the Ymbryne was pleased, for that ensured tired children and another peaceful night for her. She needed to do some serious thinking about their destination and plans. She needed to find them a new home, and that could take a while. Creating a loop would take even longer as they would need to fully settle in their new home and make sure everything was perfect before she reset time on a specific date. Despite the casual tone with which she had explained all of this to Jake just a few days prior, finding the perfect day was an arduous task.

She was worried about Jake. He was so wrapped up in the novelty of being with Emma and while she had no doubt about the depth of his feelings - one did not spend nearly a year of dangerous travel for a fling after all - she thought he would eventually miss Abe and his own time. She was concerned about Hugh's bees, who struggled in the inhospitable environment that the ship provided. The boy seemed moody and the lack of nature was getting to him. Her darling Fiona was in a similar position as she had very little to work with. Her two nature Peculiars seemed to find comfort in each other but she knew she needed to get them back to shore soon. Claire, Horace and the twins appeared mostly fine, not that the ship was a particularly interesting or safe place for them. Horace's green hue had diminished over the course of the afternoon but she could tell his stomach still churned at the thought of ingesting any food. Her other case of anxiety was towards Bronwyn. The brown-haired firecracker seemed cheerful enough, but the Ymbryne knew that the little girl had had a nightmare the previous night. Sobs had racked through her small frame as she had cried for her brother, whose body had been abandoned in the destroyed house. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyelids tightly, setting down the potato she was grating. Hollows and Wights might have been gone for now. Maybe for good, as Hollows were hardly clever enough to find loops without their Wight guides, but Alma Peregrine felt worn out. Her thoughts turned towards Emma, who was floating against the dining room's ceiling, trying to fix a chandelier. The Ymbryne had always admired the strength in her, especially after she had stumbled so hard after Abe had gone. Now Jake was here and there had to be a storm of emotions raging inside the girl. And then there was Olive and Enoch. She had caught the redhead walk into his room, but the girl had come back out nearly immediately, closing the door quietly behind her. The plate she had been carrying was gone. Had the young necromancer woken up at all since the previous night? Olive had shed his warm jumper, which could now be found on little Claire and the fire girl seemed to have returned to her usual self. She had disappeared in the bowels of the ship to check on the furnaces. Was she over the icy attack that had nearly claimed her life?

"Miss P.!" someone hollered near her ear and she turned sharply to be met with a shirt, trousers and shoes.

"Millard, how may I help you?"

"Enoch's awake." The younger boy gesticulated towards the silhouette emerging from the hallway.

The Ymbryne's face broke into a warm smile as she stood up and made her way towards the teenager. He looked like he might collapse at any moment and the circles under his eyes were still glaring. She wrapped her arms around the boy before he could protest. She knew he disliked being held but she selfishly could not bring herself to care right now as she had not seen him on his feet since her return. It therefore came as a surprise when he leaned his head against her shoulder and hugged her back. She fought back tears. Oh, how she would treasure that moment forever.

She led him towards the table and filled a bowl of leftover soup for him, fussing over him while Millard chattered excitedly at him.

"Millard, leave him alone please." She cut in kindly.

"It's fine, Miss P." Enoch replied quietly. The Ymbryne looked at him. Another surprise. She smiled and resumed grating the potatoes. If that was the usually morose teen's response to Millard, whom he hardly ever acknowledged, she was quite curious to see him interact with the other children and above all, with a certain copper-haired pyromancer.

***

Extract from chapter 10: Stop being cute, Jake

… "I aim to please." Had been the blue-eyed teen's response. That had provoked a round of snickering from the younger children as Fiona elbowed Emma and the blonde girl had rolled her eyes, knowing the teasing would last for quite a while. Well, at least until she threw Olive and Enoch under the bus. …


	10. Stop being cute, Jake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Miss Peregrine's universe, which belongs to Ransom Riggs, or the MovieVerse, which is the vision of Tim Burton and belongs to 20th Century Fox. I own the plot or lack thereof, although I cannot claim all of the ideas that made their way into these chapters are entirely original or unique. ~ Opalyns

Chapter 10: Stop being cute, Jake

Miss Peregrine had not been disappointed. As all the children filed into the dining room, ready to eat dinner and their bodies strained under all the chores they had completed, she had been delighted and vastly amused with their individual reactions at seeing the older boy. She would never have imagined he would be that popular. Enoch had been surprised to see Jake and had thrown a careless comment towards the American boy about nightmares coming true after all. But while it had been said with the typical sarcasm that laced the necromancer's voice, Jake had detected the minute whiff of affection under it.

"I aim to please." Had been the blue-eyed teen's response. That had provoked a round of snickering from the younger children as Fiona elbowed Emma and the blonde girl had rolled her eyes, knowing the teasing would last for quite a while. Well, at least until she threw Olive and Enoch under the bus.

When Claire had bounced into the dining room with her best mate Bronwyn, both her mouths had shrieked with happiness at the sight of her favourite person and she had immediately climbed up into his lap, deciding this was the optimal post to eat her dinner. Directly from his plate, obviously. She had pulled out her best puppy eyes at the Ymbryne, who was about to launch into a no-nonsense lecture. The headmistress had eventually relented and had only leaned forward to save Enoch's jumper sleeve from an assault of gravy.

Olive had come in last as the furnaces were quite a long way from the dining room. Her eyes had gleamed at seeing him seated at the table with Claire happily bouncing her little feet against his shins. It seemed none of the children had dared steal the chair on his left and she slid into it awkwardly. Her afternoon away from him had been harrowing, however dramatic that made it sound. She had spent part of it burning the useless furniture in the main fireplaces so the ship would be heated without her using her peculiarity. Every time her flames came alive, it brought her back to the way her skin erupted against his lips. She had nearly set half the ballroom on fire as her mind had wandered back to the hours they had spent lost in each other.

She had felt wretched when she had realised that she had not told him she loved him. She had been so overwhelmed by his words, it had rendered her speechless and she had let all the pent-up feelings of the past decades loose instead. He would be astonishingly foolish to not know how she felt but she understood the value of these words. He needed to hear them and she could not tell him while they were surrounded by curious ears.

The noise level of the table had indeed dropped at Olive's entrance as the children were about as keen as their headmistress to see what would happen between the two. Enoch was torn as he could not move freely with Claire's weight on him, so he just opted to grin at the redhead and grabbed her gloved hand under the table. That surely would be enough to unleash a storm amongst the children. Olive smiled softly before leaning towards him and kissing the corner of his eyebrow like she had done in the morning.

"I'm glad to see you." He heard her whisper, and he squeezed her hand.

At the head of the table, the Ymbryne hid her smile in her cup of tea. Millard and Hugh quietly forked more potatoes in their mouths without any word, while Bronwyn and Fiona suddenly became exceedingly interested in the twins’ welfare. Horace was focussed on his slow and careful chewing, hoping to keep some food down. Emma however, was having a silent tantrum, her hands making grand motions in the air and attempting to point the absolute unfairness of the situation to Jake. How could it be that no one saw how gross these two were?

Jake looked lovingly at her and patted her hand comfortingly.

"Stop being cute Jake, am tryin' to not throw up." Horace said without even looking at them.

Emma's jaw dropped as laughter rang around the table again. But the worst, the absolute worst, was when she had glared at Enoch only to be met by his and Claire's identical smirks. Oh, he would pay!

***

Olive stuck her head out and checked the corridor. Everything appeared quiet on board and the ship, still anchored in the little creek, was now barely moving on the water. It was late and the younger children had dropped off quickly, tucked in by their Ymbryne and their older peers. Miss P. had once again overseen the night time routine with her stern eye and had made sure that Emma and Olive had retreated to their cabin. Jake had contemplated moving in with Enoch in case Horace was sick again overnight but upon seeing the weariness still written all over the other teen, he had opted to be kind and let him rest.

Emma and Olive had stayed awake, trying to catch the moment the headmistress would go to bed and had been chatting quietly to each other. Emma still could not believe none of the children had even attempted to mock Olive and Enoch and her vehemence was amusing Olive to no end. The redhead knew the reprieve would be short-lived, but she relished the prank the children had played on Emma.

Eventually, they had heard the Ymbryne reach her cabin. For safety, they had waited another half hour before Olive padded silently to Jake's door. His blue eyes had looked at her blearily but he had had no problem waking up when he realised she was motioning towards her own door and that meant seeing his girlfriend. Jake gratefully slid into the girls' room and curled up against Emma. It did not take them long to fall asleep and Jake only prayed that he would wake up and return to his own bed before Horace noticed his absence. He would otherwise never live it down.

The first part of the plan completed, Olive made her way to the other familiar door down the hall and turned the doorknob as quietly as possible. She smiled as she saw Enoch had left the little light on and was completely cocooned inside the blankets. She looked at her gloved hands and hesitated before tugging them off with a sigh. How could she go back to wearing her gloves now? She knew the likelihood of her setting anything on fire while asleep was slim after so many years with her peculiarity, and they would both wake up if that happened. The boy shifted when he felt her weight sink in the mattress and her warmth against him. He rolled into her immediately and she let her hand run through his curls. Who could have guessed that he was so cuddly?

"I missed you."

She could tell from his mumbling that he was half asleep.

"I love you."

Olive kissed his temple, happy that she had finally been able to tell him. He opened his chocolate eyes and she could see how much her words meant to him. "I love you too. Are you spreading jam on my face again?"

The pyromancer laughed quietly. "I'll have you know that Claire's little fingers spread the jam on your face. I removed it."

"You did a shoddy job. My eyebrow was still sticky when I woke up tonight." He retorted, nuzzling his face against her hair and inhaling the scent of copper and fire in it.

"It’s your fault. You’re awfully distracting." Her bare arms snaked around him and she relaxed, feeling sleep overcome her.

They fell into silence and she could feel his heartbeat slow down under her hot fingers when he whispered to her again.

"You abandoned my jumper to the sticky, jam-covered claws of a six-year-old?"

Her mirth exploded and she rolled on top of him before letting her fingers trail down his sides, warming his skin. "You don't need the bloody jumper, Enoch O'Connor. You have me."

And when her lips closed on his, he indeed knew he would never be cold again.

The End.

***

_If you have suffered through all 10 chapters… Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! ~Opalyns_


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